Collapse
by Sherlock221
Summary: Sherlock is sick and refuses to go to the hospital, forcing John take care of him. Hurt/Sherlock.
1. Chapter 1

A light rapping on John's door was what woke him out of a deep sleep. He laid there for a moment, straining his ears in the deafening silence of the room. Maybe he had heard it in his sleep. Then he heard a voice.

"John."

His eyes shot open. Definitely, Sherlock. But he sounded..off. John could swear he had heard Sherlock's voice tremble when he said his name. Maybe he was imagining things. Sherlock Holmes didn't tremble when speaking. Not even when he had a right to.

John sat up straight, thankful that no one could see the concern etched on his face in the darkness.

"Sherlock?" He pulled on pants as he half-whispered him name.

He rushed to the door and pulled it open. Well, he tried. A large hand was wrapped around the knob. Not in a fashion as to open it, but to keep oneself steady.

John blinked a few times to clear his eyes and focused on the face in front of him. He fumbled to switch on the lamp sitting on his bedside table.

Sherlock looked...Well, he looked terrible.

Sherlock's head was hanging down, but John could see sweat glistening on his face. His other hand was planted on the door frame and John could see it was shaking.

John felt his heart miss a beat as he took in how harsh and slow Sherlock's breath was. The man's eyes were clenched shut as if in pain.

John instinctively reached for him. "What's wrong?" John asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"John," Sherlock repeated, but it wasn't more than a whisper this time.

John's head clasped around Sherlock's too thin arm, only half aware that he was subconsciously taking his pulse.

"Talk to me, Sherlock," John prompted. "Are you hurt?"

Sherlock was silent. His breathing was now fast and laboured, causing a pit of worry to grow in John's stomach.

"What's wrong?" John asked sternly, growing impatient.

Sherlock took a deep breath and lifted his head to look at John. John noticed that Sherlock's eyes were glazed over and red.

Sherlock reached in front of him to fist his hand in John's shirt. "John-" he tried to say, before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed.

A/N Please let me know what you thought!


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Sherlock became aware of when he woke up was the fact that he was no longer in his bedroom. His mind was foggy as he tried to remember when he fell asleep.

"John?" He questioned, or at least tried to. His voice was weak and talking made his throat burn.

The flat was mostly silent, but he could swear the kettle was boiling. Footsteps sounded near him as he tried to sit up.

"Ah, you're awake," John smiled, holding two cups of steaming tea in his hands. "Take it easy."

"Wha- happened?" Sherlock slurred.

"You passed out on me. Luckily, because you eat pretty much nothing, you were light enough for me to-"

John stopped when Sherlock turned to face him. Blood had began to poor from the man's nose.

"Oh God," whispered John as he quickly set down the mugs on the coffee table and ran to the bathroom to get a cloth. On his way to the sofa he reached down and scooped up his medical bag.

Sherlock had laid against the armrest and shut his eyes. Not wanting to startle him, John gently said his name. "Sherlock."

Sherlock turned his head again, causing the blood that had been flowing quite freely from his nose to start draining down his throat, effectively choking him.

Coughing and sputtering out blood, Sherlock sat up frantically into John's waiting arms.

"It's okay, I've got you," soothed John. "Spit it out. You've got a nose bleed. Pretty bad one, I'd say." John tried to keep his voice calm.

Still coughing and trying to clear his throat, Sherlock's nose continued to bleed.

"Okay," said John. "Pinch the bridge of your nose." His voice betrayed none of the terror he was feeling inside. "Here Sherlock, take this."

Sherlock could see a slight tremor in John's hand as he handed him the cloth. Sherlock obeyed, taking the cloth and placing it up to his face to help staunch the bleeding.

John was in doctor mode. "Is this the first one of these you've had? Don't talk, just nod if so."

Sherlock nodded to the affirmative, his eyes fixed on John. He could tell John was frightened for him.

"I think maybe we should go to hospital, Sherlock."

"It's nothing John," said Sherlock, his voice muffled under the cloth.

"No. Don't do that," John sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face.

"Do what?" Sherlock asked, with innocent looking eyes.

"The whole 'I'm invincible' facade. You collapsed in my bedroom not 15 minutes ago. You're not okay."

Suddenly, Sherlock bolted up and ran towards the bathroom, shoving passed John.

"What the-" John started.

Sherlock almost tripped in the doorway, but managed to slam the door behind him.


End file.
